Sunday, September 16, 2012

Another Day

Another day slips away
into the stream 
from now to then.
On and on
the seconds flow
with little notice 
and much that’s noticed
only barely so
and even less 
and what’s
hardly fills 
a spoon and 
much of that 
regretted or
and some
second by second. 
And so 
another day 
just slips 

The Sink

Their eyes look blank
as buttons.
They've given up.
Except one
whose eye seems
hooked on me.

Dad carves a knife,
pours oil in the pan.

Poor little beings
pumping hard 
to catch a breath.

I'm pushed aside.
I hear a whack.

Flesh deep frying
but poor little Button
is pounding harder
against the sink.

Eat! dad orders.
But I just can't,
not with Buttons
pounding ever harder
against the sink.